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Silpika Kalita Poem
Their mere weapon was their forbidden courage, hands barren with no armaments, no ammunitions, marching towards the proud valley of death, dedication born from their sempiternal dreams of a free land.
Their bare weapon was their incessant patriotism integrated under a sensitise unique identity of "many in body, one in mind" regardless of microscopic divisions and territories.
One after another valorous episodes of martyrdoms saline the lifeless pages of chronicles with carotenes of united echoes of nationalism campaigning for independence.
Their mere weapon was their dauntless defiance, encapsulated in revolted gestures against servitude as banishment and penalized death-sentences ruined the rallying cries of revolutionary catchphrases.
Their mere weapons were their doggedness and grit under the divide and rule's suffocated ambience of authoritarian sunless sky where life was more traumatic than nightmarish death.
Their mere weapon was their undefeated dreams when chauvinistic old and young blood were contentedly motioning to expire in the hecatomb of prerogative freedom; intoning the committed slogan of "Vande Mataram" I praise thee, mother," ardently.
Non-actualised, futile movements after movements were not their impediments, but cheering formidable fortitude to stay resilient in face of coercive subjugation with consolidated resoluteness.
Their mere weapons were their steadfast unity and integrity in the face of controls and bans; consolidated in the unabated tides of mass participation to resist the holocaust regulations.
With unprecedented ubiquitous non-cooperation and boycott widespread, who could restrain the dangling steps parading towards the gallows to save the sanctity of motherland!
Their mere weapons were non violence and laudable forbearance against all odds of vehement intolerances, a rare aplomb to sustain with dignity under any strategic dominance.
Their mere weapon was their discretionary decisiveness, solidified by prolonged oppressions' distresses, took all the bullets on the audacious-chests gloriously so that a new millennium of amaranthine independence becomes reality.
From 1847 to 1946, history witnessed a persistent series of spotless sacrifices marked by resiliences' bloodshed for the sanctified cause under the silhouette sky of alien-jurisdiction's proclaimed, penalized damnation.
Steadfast fidelity and enduring fortitude created an immortal era when from the sacrifices' blood bloomed a new dawn of liberty under the independent sky of justified sovereignty.
An egalitarian eternal sunrise of a democratic chapter incepted with the viceroy rule broke up at the midnight of 14 th August 1947 marking the end of the seminal moment of perennial despotism, when the proud nation wake up to witness the first liberated sunrise at monumental twilight of 15 th August 1947 with the swearing of panegyric oration of independence at the Viceregal Lodge of Shimla.
Another acclaimed milestone with sacrifices footprint, auspiciously encrypted in January 26, 1950, when broke free from the shackles of monarchy into a sovereign republic permanently as the glorious constitution came into effect with the termination of the dominion status ultimately.
World's largest democracy, India, is going to proudly complete 75 th glorious years of independence on 15 th August 2022.
An honourable salute to all the martyrs who sacrificed everything so that nation can behold the dawn of priceless freedom forever.
Vande Mataram
© Silpika Kalita
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2022
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Silpika Kalita Poem
A whistling wheezing hamlet, whispering and emanating, tunes euphonic,
In a remote isolated valley, far-flung from the abode of the temporal,
Warbling quietly to whistle scads of tranquil cryptic songs;
Lying spasmodic, a sparsely inhabited mellifluous hamlet, Kongthong!
Not to hyperbole, a singing utopia, uncustomary to the core!
Where innate and mellow are the naive dwellers' rustic tinkling timbres!
A rover's riddle, the natives' pride, a unique heritage, their blissful strains!
Ringing with an ancient tradition of tune-giving in honour of the root ancestress,
Customary to the matrilineal surviving unknown folk of the thorp!
The chirping region's dispositions and practices outlandish, vague and obscure,
Primitive and bizarre, mere to merge with nature's absolute accord!
Voices buzzing in whistles, murmuring and chattering, lilting,
Arcane, pervading the virgin thicket of the sacred thorpe!
To entangle, passerby and wanderers in dream like metaphors!
Those magical murmurs in quirky tunes, mingling the breeze of the secluded hamlet, intoning own tinkles!
Blessed are the tuning terrain's offsprings, nameless!
Rared by ditties, hailed sacred by the clan's conviction!
Outlying, by the uninhabited enchanting wilderness of East Khasi Hills,
Sleeping quietly the untrodden, nature's lulling lullaby, the whistling Kongthong!
Yell! Immaculate and serene, the saga of their undeciphered airs, mumbling in exquisite ethos!
Inimitable and gripping to eye, how the denizens of the tribe,
Are crooning to dub and call each other by indigenous intonations!
Pitching and whooshing, to tune their melodic identities unique!
Whew! The picturesque terrain is tweeting, whooping, and whizzing!
Heaven! Bless anomalous nature's absolute pamphlet,
The ringing Kongthong, God's own whistling hamlet!
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2021
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Silpika Kalita Poem
Was privileged to have sedentary on the seashore in seraphic poetic submersion;
the ringing sounds from the distant horizon made me entirely lost in speculation;
when the sounds of waves from far nimbly touched ears to distraught me, all of a sudden in collision;
In that transcendental moment, astounded to find the ringing sound subliminal, turns into the roaring waves in spinning motions;
reminded, my trivial existence in contrast to its immense vastness and mystical presence in connotation.
More and more it played with the sounds, the roaring sea in enormity was stirring my inquisitiveness in commotion!
The sea’s matchless rhythm appeared as encompassing nature’s euphoria, not yet fathomed!
The unchained melodies of the seagulls fluttering along with the tones to merge their untiring assonance in motions.
Everything, including the sea, beach, the creatures, in perfect harmony were moving in sonorous locomotion;
a rare scene of "absolute consonance of magical chemistry."
everything encircling the sea, even a drift wood was rhyming beyond my imagination;
as they edified to be well versed in catching cryptic ocean's magnificent motions
Their intense bonding with the sea’s rhyming couplets was their own, couldn’t touch my limited interpretation.
The sea, with its salinity, deep currents and gigantic cycles is indeed a classic, a magnificent creation!
Rhythm so impactful that, in a nutshell of the seashell, the whirling sounds ring in absolute synchronization!
The ringing connotation reminded me,” When the calmness of nature in rhythm are being agitated in various forms, emerge the abyssal cyclones and eruptions!"
“The beach is not the sweep of sand, but a perennial testimony of the rise and fall of human civilizations.
Even the beach sings the synchronisation, when the sea rings in motion, although inaudible in intonation,
paradoxically, even the upper end of the river yearns to submerge in it in complete conviction!
At night, the incessant rhyming upheavals of tidal ebb and flow in presence of the magnificent moon, plead shore’s consent to rhyme with the enormous creation in arcane melodic union!
"Is there anything more alluring than the way the sea refuses to stop caressing the shoreline, even in dejection?"
No matter how many times the shore sent it back, an unparalleled epochal epitome of unconditional, selfless devotion!
I brought shore kissed empty shells and a drift wood while bidding adieu to the majestic creation as memorable mementos to linger on!
The ringing sea, who spoke to my soul, even long after my footprints in the sand were gone!
Heard and that day witnessed with bare eyes,” the sea gives back whatever dear we lost,
the lost precious moments, the platonic healing sight of dedication, self-beings in refined forms,”
that’s the ringing sea, where the castles made of sand fell to intermingle to set it free to loose entity to be one~
Copyright © Silpika Kalita
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2022
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Silpika Kalita Poem
You've visited me after a long time: Remember; once, I was brimming with might? Named babbling brook, revered as a singing deity, how blissful was my sight! Have reminiscences of your childhood, in my mellow abode."
"Might be pondering: why I look so barren, with no traces of aesthetic shine left?
Wailing! How the amenity of my native region collapsed with my declining diminishing plight!"
"Grieve not that once I was such a beautiful soul, as ascended from heaven to touch the telluric vegetations! I recall, you drew my picturesque portrait, warbling among lush pastures, with mellifluous rhymes, glancing among grassy paddocks! "
"You plucked the wild flowers from the meadows, made garlands to wonder like a wood nymph! How crystal was my flow, even you had the glimpse of your own shadow!"
"Can't forget by sitting on my rubbles, pony tailing, you took me as your mirror! You put your hand to touch the floating colourful fishes as springing with my rhythm! "
"I enriched the flora and fauna of the terrain, whoever came in my course to rejoice with my luminous flow!"
"Like a serpent, I took ample curves and luscious textures to allure! Bedazzled by my sight, the joyous kids ran miles, only to wonder where I recline!"
"Elated by their innocence, I blessed them with my crystal beams! Neither they, nor you while quenching thirst, failed to applaud my pristine beads!"
"Such spontaneous I was, wondering down the sloping meadows to struck the pebbles, the faded pebbles, rejuvenated with myriads of colours, once I started my euphonic fusion!"
"My sweetness rolled over your senses, you owe me as sacred drops!
Now I taste sour: crumbling, with no vestige of sweetness left! I worth mere elegy now; I exclaim, the erudite folly, 'Can you substitute my purity?"
"Gone are the resonances of those euphonious odes; those mellow strains of glee! Still you whisper that from impaired eyes, my meagre counterparts may survive in far-flung valleys!"
"You replete me with hope to save them, if fortunate to wonder like a vagabond hither and thither on those remote regions! Plea to convey my dictum, earth's sacred water will extinct soon, tenderly treat it as boon!"
"You may pen my aching tale; may revive me with the aid of the waking conscience of the folk of the adjacent thorp! "Never say adieu!" adorable: waiting to come alive with your help: to be the epithet, 'the babbling Brook,' the euphonic cynosure again.
All Rights Reserved © SILPIKA KALITA
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2021
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Silpika Kalita Poem
Forth from the heaven, from the misty moorlands of all sacred woodland greens,
drop by drop by striking the pebbles and untouched vegetations oozes,
the intoning hallowed water of evergreen woods' crystal cascades, brooks and streams.
to adduce the onus lies on doomed humanity to be the savior of the sanctum woods',
to rue, who paid no reverence yet to the venerated water of sanctified copse!
The immaculate sheer nectar drops while rippling through the hills and meadows,
preserved by the rustic folks absolutely isolated from the frenzy reserved mobs.
Alas! The competitors of rat race, the votaries of somber brandish feverish blogs,
are not blessed even to taste a single ambrosial drop, ordained for the harmless folk.
On the edge of the forest, the celestial cascades are crooning from the bamboos and ferny rocks,
as the drops from the paradise on the down hills, giggles and rumbles piercing the lavish green dense groves,
ripples on the solitary cobbles, lush ferns and drifting logs, stricken the awaiting crinkling rubbles.
twirling and rhyming along the wistful wind, caressing the sparkling gleeful wild robes.
The chirruping water, emanating from unknown, of those heavenly abodes sacred falls.
looks like the silver tears tracks on the deciduous evergreen face of the mounted moulds' aromatic slopes.
The pellucid pools at the bottom are varnished so crystal clear with ferns, petals and wildflowers,
tasted immense sweet and pure, can't be earthly, while spurting over the fluorescent pebbles and whispering rocks:
Gushing, surging, plunging down the ridges,
to prove the sight, taste and roar of the elysian locks.
While rambling, astounded to behold the flux of preserved pristine woods' divine drops,
cascading down from the wild ridge like the emerald lush green biomes' pores.
on whose unsullied touch, hails to germinate the spasmodically lying wild scattered seeds zygotes,
sluicing, springing down slowly through bamboos and moulds leafy green slippery slopes,
amazed to brood, "how those drops are being guarded by the rustic naive folks,
to bid adieu to the votaries of greed and plunderers of untarnished woods of sublime drops!"
The fluorescent rocks and thick moos so untainted concealed from the unfaithful polluted souls,
pitch by pitch, purging softly to touch the uncontaminated Godly vegetation hailed by the sacred drops!
The lone odysseys of Silpika @ Solitary woods
This poem was composed, a year back in the sacred woodlands of a remote region.
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2021
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Silpika Kalita Poem
While rambling like a vagabond in a seraphic poetic submersion, in a remote region, witnessed the most captivated sight ever,
a sleeping valley rippled in wild blooms, as sparkling in mystical celestial beam, in the mesas of the clouds, the Dzukou Valley,
a remote dale at the border of Nagaland and Manipur,
in the untrodden tableland of India's Northeast!
The picturesque landscape was ringing with the
once in a lifetime scene of emerald shades of hillocks
paving the way for azure mountaintops,
luminous flowers waving in the winds amongst the tall grasses!
The vale was tweeting and twirling amidst the virgin vegetations enriched with the spectacular sights of verdant forests,
exquisite flora and fauna,
serpentine streams, myriads of panoramic pink
and white wild blooms that dot
the vast caldera of the valley and its' verdant meadows,
alongside the meandering rivers of Dzukou and Japfu,
appeared as the absolute paragon of serenity and tranquility!
Surrounded by the whispering platonic hills,
with numerous colorful flying creatures,
the valley seemed as smuggled over
the dewdrops' fragrant feral fruits,
Oak and Rhododendron forests are a feast to the eyes!
Half way up and any signs of tracks disappear,
and one is just left with wheezing enigmatic bamboo thickets!
Botanists' delight, trackers' paradise, seraph's psyche,
rovers' riddle, is reclining placidly ,
the untrodden earth's lulling lullaby,
in the abode of the divine Lily's
anomalous nature's absolute pamphlet,
a rich biodiversity hotspots
of endemic species, the Dzoku Valley;
an uninhabited unsullied phosphorus valley
Note:
The Dzüko Valley is located at the borders of the states of Nagaland and Manipur in Northeast India. The valley is known for its extremely rich biodiversity, seasonal flowers and flora & fauna. It is situated at an altitude of 2452 m above sea level.
© Silpika Kalita
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2022
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Silpika Kalita Poem
The azure ocean, home to the embedded enormous incomprehensible riches of mysteries and riddles,
More than the Mars, lies unfathomed, underneath the conundrum of oceanic colossal rhythms.
From the The Milky Sea Phenomenon, a sight captured as bioluminescence illusion,
The Purple Orb of the ocean floor of California and the Baltic Sea’s anomalous puzzles,
Like the alien spaceship put foot on the colossal quagmires of oceanic chasm!
When the underwater volcanoes erupt to perplex beyond imagination in huddle,
To probe and discern those gems of oyster shell’s luminous pearls dazzles,
Deep beneath sleeping peacefully in the ocean’s cradle!
The fatal enigma of the unplumbed immensely profound oceanic mysteries will never dwindle.
The more one plunges to pierce in deep muse its vastness engulfs to diddle!
The superficial waves in corrugation, are mere widening its hitherto horizontal hurdles.
The bizarre sounds emanating from beneath are like giant icebergs scraping the oceanic floor in madly rhythm!
The obscure oceanic realms, its myriads mystical appearances remains timeless, fancy of millions!
Eras and eras pass, the mythical mermaid’s riddle are yet to resolve,
As centuries pass, may replete with the witness of numerous human civilizations!
Like the Atlantis of Japan, from time immemorial, the oceans are abodes of colossal confusions.
The voyages disappear in the Mystic Triangle, who knows what lies beneath the mythical abstractions?
The twirling sounds of infinite ocean swirling in the sea shells are quite captivating, attract admirers attractions;
The archipelago one after the other vanished without the trace, as in Marina Trench’s aberrations;
As if the Phantom Islet of Bermeja, in its murky abyssal cradle’s magnetic composition.
The Crop Circles discovered beneath its bosom as if the signage of other world’s manifestations;
The oceanic phenomenon of green flashes meets the red tides, reveals your magnificent disposition.
Wants to plunge, swim like a mermaid in your mystical cerulean temporal lilting motion;
Oh, the oceanic conundrum more we try to fathom, the more we entangle in your cryptic chasm!
© Silpika Kalita
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2021
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Silpika Kalita Poem
Melodic passion, lilting harmonies lull my slender fingers,
when I play with the stringed keyboard, I sink into the mellifluous music, can feel the gentle keys under my fingertips softly as the alchemy notes cadence spasmodically.
Swirling colours lost in time, chimes of the electric waves rhyme, repetitive sonorous beats one after the other replete the very ambience with cancerous, calm vibes.
The reverberating strains of those sacrosanct, subliminal-sounds' ripple effects lull senses with esoteric mellow polyphonies and my secluded, aesthetic-self, unconsciously submerges in those polyphonies silently.
The lyric goes on and on while immersing my soul,
the world seems calm from every harm on those ambrosial moments, once the last crescendo is struck, the enamoured silence of tranquility generates an utopia of its own,
yet, an art of magical touch of each pitch to the subliminal conscience and existence in sublime solitude can't be captured by interpretive ink
Can sense the calm after playing the stringed keyboard in solitude;
the exalted gadget is the catalyst to inner peace, a feast to the soul, what makes the esoteric journey complete, her dreamy rhythm makes my heart beat .
© Silpika Kalita
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2022
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Silpika Kalita Poem
Let’s fly to the celestial fiesta of the cherry blossom,
In the North Eastern Region of Shillong, named, “The Scotland of the East,
The abode of the cloud,” in the lush mesa of the magnetic Meghalaya!
The wheezing Pine forest of the whispering waterfalls in the Khasi hills,
is bustling with the nature’s fairytale of pink, white and ivory!
As far as the eyes can see, the rolling tableland is ringing, ridden by the radiant petals of cherries!
Neither Japan, nor Paris, a mere remote region of Indian plateau,
Glowing in nature’s sublime glory of pellucid picturesque pinks!
Nicknamed, Prunus Cerasoides, the cherry blossoms,
a delightful boon of Himalayas,
are blooming profusely in the magical
verdant highland of the East Khasi hills!
The November is rippling with
moonlit music, plethora of flamboyant folk dances,
pageants, stalls to cater to the globetrotters’ penchant for the ethnicity
of the fur-flung region’s tribes’ cuisines, wine, arts and cryptic crafts!
Such bedazzling is the serenity of the panaromic platonic plateau,
As folks of the vicinity, are traversing despite the rampant pandemic,
to glimpse the shangri la of the richest biome of the floral magical lane!
The resonating frolic of the chirping and twittering from the cheerful cherry bushes
are teeming with the twirling bliss, intoning,
in winters whistling whiff!
A nature’s bounty, a pamphlet of picturesque hamlets’ terrains of aromatic sensuous purity!
Blessed are they, who have witnessed the once in a lifetime scene of crystal clean roaring rivulets, murmuring brooks, the ravishing orchids, quirky root bridges, aesthetic lakes and rills, scented wild flowers, encompassing the enigmatic cherry blooms of the mystic land of the majestic mountains!
An euphoria to have a ride amidst the clouds of the misty moorlands,
gliding languidly to take the signature of the mementos of the moments;
to kiss the plateau of wild orchids, flowering Cherries and sacred woodlands of those Khasi hills,
crackling with the sprouting, cherry blossom festival of the far East!
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2021
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Silpika Kalita Poem
The caricature of a gentleman, nameless, scorned,
The infamous savage of the famous street was wobbling:
Scruffy, shaggy, ruffed beared, tousled haired,
Disheveled,
there went the odious appearance, bumbling.
Soubriquet: lunatic, fierce, rowdy with murky torn clothes,
Was sitting stigmatic with grubby means,
Was teased and thrown stones,
To drive away from the decorous street!
He was spotted pitied with meagre chuck,
While feeding a destitute;
Taunting and sneering didn't perturb him,
Gave his share simpering, only to be starved!
The antithesis of savage, the man of the hour,
Silently paved his way then, bare footed tottering,
To be again the savage of the decorous street!
Copyright © Silpika Kalita | Year Posted 2022
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